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Written by Priscilla Lalisse-Jespersen
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 On September 11, 2001, I was happily making my way towards the Saint Lazare metro station, excited about my upcoming French class at Alliance Française. Busy conjugating French verbs in my head, I jumped a little when my cell phone started vibrating.
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Written by Priscilla Lalisse-Jespersen
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It’s been a few weeks now since the “DSK scandal” broke. In France they’re calling it “L’Affaire DSK” and images of a haggard-looking Dominque Strauss-Khan pervade our televions. Images of NYC and the Sofitel Hotel are shown en boucle. On June 6th DSK will appear before a Manhattan judge to plead guilty or not guilty. This is only the beginning of what is sure to be a very sordid affair by any definition. Besides the obvious facts that have been presented to us regarding the case, here’s what I’ve learned as an American living in Paris, so far.
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Written by Priscilla Lalisse-Jespersen
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If you really want a gorgeous panoramic view of Paris, then how about climbing up to the top of the Arc de Triomphe? I would highly recommend it and always do to visiting friends. In my humble opinion, it’s much better and faster to access than waiting in line for an elevetator to take you to the top of the Eiffel Tower (that is, if you’re only going to the top for the view). From the Arc’s observation deck you can see up the Champs-Elysées along with other famous landmarks such as the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, Sacré-Coeur, and La Défense.
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Written by Priscilla Lalisse-Jespersen
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On October 4, 2000 Alabama lost one of its most extraordinary citizens, and the world lost a tower of a man. Born in April 1919 in Loachapoka (Lee County) Alabama, Harry Heard moved to Heflin with his family when he was 11 years old. He went on to work at the Planter Mill for 60 years. I can still remember him walking back across the highway and eating a lunch that my grandmother had prepared, and then walking back to his job. He had said he wasn’t paid much, but that a man had to work.
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Written by Priscilla Lalisse
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It was Friday. End of the week, finally. I was just thinking about it, and patiently waiting for my son to finish his business in the minature bathroom of his school. Another boy from his class walks in and heads for one of the tiny urinals. I'd seen him numerous times and chatted with his mom too. Nice. I used to think it was great that she spoke English...used to.
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